The Prodigal Son
by ncalkins
Summary: Harry Potter isn't your normal wizard. He can do things other's can't. How will he feel when he finds out that Lily and James Potter are not his parents, but they did blood adopt him, but instead he is the son of the most powerful Greek Gods. "All in favor of killing off my children, Poseidon's children, and Hades's children raise your hand." - Zeus (On Hold)


_**The Prodigal Son**_

Thanks to Rick Riordan and J.K. Rowling for creating such wonderful stories! I don't know anything. Prophesies taken from original text, Au and ooc; Self beta'ed to best of my abilities. Messed up timeline.

"This has to stop."

Hestia looked up; her black curls swinging around her shoulders. She peered out of her hearth towards her siblings. Athena stood in front of a large screen waving her hand towards it. The image on it made Hestia frown. Hiroshima dissolved in a bright light over and over again as the same clip repeated.

"This has to stop," Athena repeated. "It is one thing when demigods work in our favor, and unfortunately, humans get caught in the crossfire between the demigods and monsters. It is another, when demigods start wars that change everything."

"It's not _our_ fault that Hades's children decided to throw a fit," Zeus grumbled.

"They wanted to prove that their father is just as worthy of respect as you and Poseidon," Athena pointed out. "It did not help that your children antagonized them."

"Perhaps, we should have stepped in before things had gotten so out of hand," Poseidon said. He stared at the screen.

Hestia frowned. In her opinion they should have stepped in a long time ago. They should have let Hades have a cabin, and let his children feel welcome at Camp Half-Blood. That way this struggle for power would have stopped before it spilled out into the mortal world.

"We could not have known that the demigods would take their power dispute to the humans," Zeus said.

"Regardless, of how it happened," Athena said. "The big three demigods are too powerful and too persuasive. The children of Zeus and Poseidon dropped a bomb that vaporized hundreds of thousands; while, the children of Hades killed millions so they can summon more soldiers."

The gods stared silently at her. Hestia's ember eyes darted from Zeus and Poseidon to the rest of the gods. She bit her lip. She hoped that this would not end in bloodshed among her family.

"Then what do you suggest?" Zeus asked. "Do we lock up our children?

"Perhaps, if they were kept at Camp Half-Blood," Hermes suggested.

"Their fighting will just continue there," Hera said. "They'll destroy the camp. Besides, you know Hades will never agree to it."

"Last time a child of Zeus and a child of Poseidon got into it, one of my children almost died," Apollo said. He frowned.

"They were punished for it." Zeus waved his hand as if to wave away Apollo's concern.

"They were forced to scrub toilets. That is an unequal punishment." Apollo crossed his arms and glared at the ground.

"What would you have us do?" Poseidon sighed. "Our children are powerful because we are powerful."

"Swear on the river Styx to never again, sire any more children," Hera suggested.

"And why would we do that?" Zeus clenched his fist.

A bright white light came from Apollo's seat. The gods straightened; they knew what this meant. Hestia leaned forward out of her hearth to see. White light filled Apollo's eyes. Golden smoke poured forth from his opened mouth.

"A Half-Blood of the eldest gods." A childlike female voice came from Apollo.

"Shall reach sixteen against all odds." The voice matured into that of a young female adult.

"And see the world in endless sleep." The female voice withered as it grew old.

The three different voices layered as they delivered the final lines.

"The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap, A single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze." The white light faded from Apollo's eyes and the gold smoke vanished.

The gods stood as still as statues. Even the air laid undisturbed by breath.

"The Fates have spoken," Hera said. She tilted her chin up and looked down at Zeus. "You can no longer have any children because it will bring about our ruin."

"Fine," Zeus sighed. "Let me summon Hades so we may perform the oath."

He stood up and walked over to the golden door behind his chair.

"Wait," Hera called.

Zeus stopped; he tilted his head towards her. Hestia stared into Zeus's blue eyes. A storm roared within them. It wouldn't be long before Zeus erupts. Hestia pressed back into her hearth; the fire curled around her. The hot stone caressed her back; it comforted her.

"What?" Zeus bit out.

"The other demigods," Hera said. "The ones you, Poseidon, and Hades have already sired."

"What about them?" Zeus growled.

"They need to be destroyed," Hera said. "It is unknown whether the demigod the prophecy talks about is already alive."

Hestia's stomach rolled. Hera hated demigods, most of them were symbols of infidelity, but to suggest to dispose of these children as if they were little more than rusted blades. Worst of all: Hera had a point.

"You suggest that I murder my own blood!" Zeus roared; he pivoted towards Hera.

"We don't even know when the prophecy will come to pass," Poseidon said.

"True," Athena said. "That just means the prophecy can come about tomorrow."

"You're being paranoid," Poseidon said. "If we keep our children alive, we can watch them, and if any of them start to go against us, we can steer them back in the right direction, and if we have to, we can squash any rebellion."

"I refuse to give up any part of my power!" Zeus yelled.

"Father, we just want the world to be at peace. Besides, you get part of all offerings from all demigods. You will be just as powerful as you are now," Aphrodite soothed.

"Speak for yourself," Ares grunted. "This is great for my energy. The last time I felt like this was during World War One."

"The only way to ensure our safety is to kill the demigods," Athena said.

"Why would the demigods turn against us?" Zeus snapped. "We are their parents."

"I can name a few reasons," Hermes muttered to Apollo, who nodded.

"Some of the demigods show unease towards us, Father," Athena said.

"You need to convince Hades to swear an oath to remain faithful to Persephone," Hera insisted. "The out of wedlock children must stop, and you will kill all the ones you have now so this war cannot drag on any longer."

"There has to be another way," Poseidon protested. "We can pull our children out of the war, and keep them in Camp Half-Blood."

Athena shook her head. "Their vigorous belief in what they are fighting for would make it difficult to remove them; plus, they would resent us for keeping them in one place. The prophecy would come true."

"What about the ones who are outside the battle zone?" Zeus interjected. "Surely, they can live."

"They are blights on our marriage," Hera dismissed. "Their monstrous existence is unacceptable."

"It's not their fault that they were born demigods," Apollo protested as he stood up from his golden throne.

"It doesn't have to be their fault, Pretty Boy," Ares sneered. "The poor bastards just have a bad lot in life. I vote that we let them fight it out. Better for them to die in battle than to be slaughtered like animals."

"What kind of image would that send to the rest of the demigods? Demigods of the most powerful gods forced to fight each other because their parents are fearful of a prophecy?" Demeter gripped her wheat topped staff. "It's bad enough, they are hunted by monsters. What would it do to our relationship if they felt that their parents hunted them too for entertainment?"

"How would it be any different from what we do anyway?" Aphrodite asked. "We watch them fight monsters and in this war. We take sides and place bets. The only difference is it would be right in front of us; it'd be honest and open."

"See," Ares said. His scarred finger with its crewed on nail, pointed at Aphrodite.

"The difference is," Artemis snapped as she gripped her bow. "The demigods have to fight for survival against the monsters, and they choose to fight in this human war. Besides, some of these demigods are children. Why should they be killed when they are too young to fight in this war?"

"I want our power to stay intact, and if we keep quiet about the deaths of the other demigods," Hephaestus said as his oil stained fingers twisted a wire. "The demigods that remain will keep their peace."

"And how are we suppose to keep it secret?" Hermes asked; he raised an eyebrow. "The demigods are well connected, even the children of Hades have connections. The children of Poseidon and the children of Zeus are popular; the other demigods will wonder where they have gone. How are we supposed to explain to them that we killed the most powerful demigods? The children that remain will think we are scared of a prophecy that could take up to or beyond a millennium to come true."

"We're not scared," Hera scoffed. "They worship us. Why should we lower ourselves to explain ourselves to tools?"

Hestia clinched her fist. Her nails dug into her palms. Those _tools_ treated her with more respect than most humans and gods combined–at least the ones who bothered to see her. There was a reason she was known as the "Forgotten Goddess".

"The demigods are too stubborn and too stupid to stop fighting," Dionysus sighed as he sipped his coke. "I suppose you can send them all to Camp Half-Blood. It's what it's there for. To give me a bigger headache."

"That won't work, " Athena said. "There is nothing stopping the demigods from leaving the camp."

"Do you think I'm unable to stop a couple of demigods from leaving?" Dionysus hissed, bloodshot eyes narrow. He crunched the coke can in his fist.

"A couple, no," Athena said. "All of them, yes. There is no other way. If any of the demigods are left, they may be the demigod the prophecy foretold. The demigods of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades are all too powerful, and must be destroyed for the safety and good of all humanity and us. If left alone, they can destroy the rest of the humans, decimate the other demigods, as well as cause our fall."

The gods fell silent.

"Let me call Hades," Zeus sighed. He snapped his fingers and an Iris message appeared.

"Zeus," Hades greeted as he glared at his brother.

"Hades," Zeus greeted him–stone faced.

"Why are you calling me?" Hades questioned.

"We are having a discussion about the demigods," Zeus said. "I need you to come to Mount Olympus to discuss their fate."

"Their fate?" Hades's eyes narrowed.

Zeus waved his hand through the message. Hades's face dissolved into rainbow mist. Within seconds Hades appeared out of the shadows with a scowl on his face.

"What do you mean their fate?" Hades snapped.

"Apollo has been gifted a prophecy from the fates," Zeus said. "A demigod that is born from myself, Poseidon, or you will reach sixteen years of age and may cause our ruin. We are prepared to swear an oath to never again, sire anymore children."

Hades looked from Poseidon to Zeus. "I agree. We cannot risk our down fall."

"So be it," Zeus said. "I, Zeus, King of the Gods, Lord of the Skies swear on the River Styx to never again sire another demigod child."

"I, Poseidon, Lord of the Seas swear on the River Styx that I shall never again sire a demigod child," Poseidon said.

"I, Hades, Lord of the Underworld shall never again, sire a demigod child so do I swear on the River Styx," Hades said.

"We, the council of Olympus, witness your oaths," Hera said.

Hestia shivered as the air grew heavy with the oath sworn. For the gods to swear on the River Styx, it was more of a gesture to comply with the council. The witnesses, the council, hold the sworn to their vow. If the pledge was broken the other gods would decide the punishment. It had been centuries since the last sworn oath, and this one seemed to hold more weight than any others. Hestia wondered how her brothers would be held to this vow.

"Now we must decide what to do with the living demigods," Zeus said.

"What do you mean?" Hades asked.

"Hera has brought up a good point," Zeus said. "We cannot know when the prophecy will come true. As such, we must take measures to insure that the demigods remain docile."

"What do you suggest?" Hades asked.

"I suggest we send them to Camp Half-Blood to be trained as heroes, and kept there." Zeus stared into Hades's eyes. "They will remain behind the barrier, and will be closely monitored by Dionysus."

Hestia smothered a smile at Dionysus's groan.

"Never," Hades snapped. "My children are not welcome there."

"The only other choice is to kill them," Poseidon said.

"They could just live in my domain," Hades said. "They will be watched and trained."

"Not just yours, Hades," Athena broken in stepping forward. "But all the children of the Big Three will be killed."

The dead look Hades gave Athena broke Hestia's heart. Hestia couldn't image what was going through his mind.

"Let's put it to a vote," Poseidon sighed.

"Yes," Zeus said. "That would be for the best."

Hestia frowned. The only thing that did was take the decision out of their hands; this, in a way, was good because as the fathers they had an unfair attachment. If it was any other demigod, there would be no vote.

"All in favor of killing off my children, Poseidon's children, and Hades's children raise your hand," Zeus choked out.

Hera smirked as she raised her hand alongside stone faced Athena. Ares rested his head in his hand and raised his other followed by Aphrodite as she flipped through a magazine and Hephaestus as he pulled out a small trinket. All the other gods except Poseidon, Zeus, and Hades reluctantly raised their hands.

"Why?" Poseidon demanded; his fingers dug into the leather arms of his throne. "You fought for our children to be spared. Why would you change your minds?"

"I–" Apollo cleared his throat. He avoided Poseidon's sea green eyes."A number of my children have been killed because of the war that your children have started. I'm sorry Uncle P, but I have to think of my own."

"As much as I hate the idea of children being killed," Artemis said. She twisted her bow in her hands. "Many more will suffer if we do not put a stop to this. I have to think of the many."

"The damage done to Japan," Demeter whispered. "I would hate to think what would happen if the Axis decided to use that technology against my fields or against us. Besides, there is more at stake than the lives of your demigods."

"Less brats for me to deal with," Dionysus said, his eyes glued to his new can of Diet Coke.

"If one of the demigods turn out to be the one the prophecy spoke of, we run the risk of losing everything we've worked for," Hermes said. "Besides, if it was anyone's kid other than yours, there wouldn't even be a vote. They would have been killed without remorse. "

The Greek gods fell silent. Zeus shifted in his seat. Poseidon looked down at his feet. Hades's black eyes connected with Hestia's ember eyes and he gave a small shrug. Hestia held her shaking hand up to her lips. Hades had been expecting this result, and why wouldn't he? The oldest of all of them, he knew better than any of them what fear drove people, gods, to do.

"So it is agreed," Athena said. "The demigods will be killed."

The Big Three stared the other gods down. Only Athena and Hera met their eyes.

"It's the right thing to do," Athena said.

Hestia clenched her fist. At least Athena looked like she regretted the decision. Hera looked as if she had won a long fought battle. Her smug smile made Hestia sick to her stomach.

"Let us summon our children here." Zeus sat down; his head bowed. Every part of him seemed to droop even his trimmed, black, beard. "Be gone."

"How will we know that you do as the council wills?" Hera demanded. She stepped forward; the flames from Hestia's hearth lit up her bronze curls and gold crown.

"We will," Zeus said.

"Swear–" Hera said.

"No more swears!" Zeus interrupted. His voice shook the throne room.

Hera's lips tightened together as if someone had pulled a string to close her mouth.

"You do not have to swear," Athena said. Her gray eyes calculating; Hestia knew she was doing her best to prevent another fight. "Though, perhaps we should stay, so we know that you have done what needs to be done."

Zeus glowered at her.

"The murder of our children, by our own hands, is not a spectacle to be enjoyed," Hades glared daggers at Athena.

"I will stay." Those words slipped from Hestia's mouth like water out of a cupped hand.

The gods turned towards her. Hestia stepped out of her hearth. Cool stone touched her bare feet. Small fingers tangled together as she stared up at her family. Ever since Apollo tried to rape her several thousand years ago, she refused to take on a form older than that of a small child.

"Where else would I go?" She gestured towards her hearth. At the center of Olympus it is what kept everything going.

Zeus tipped his head towards her and gifted her with a small smile. "There you have it Hera, Athena, we have a witness. Now go."

The gods left, ready to dismiss this event from their minds. The last one to leave was Hera. Hestia got the feeling Hera was displeased with the results; perhaps, she feared Zeus would worm his way out of this.

Zeus leaned back into his chair, resting his head against the back. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He glanced at Hestia who caressed his hand. She tried to smile at him, but failed.

Poseidon lowered his head into his hands. Hestia brushed his arm; he kept his face covered.

Hestia turned towards a crushing sound coming from the other side of Zeus. Hades had summoned a throne. Usually, his throne would be a mix of bones within black stone, but today it gleamed with jewels and rare metals. He sat down in it staring straight ahead without seeing. Hestia approached him unshaken by his glare.

"I am not afraid of your glare," Hestia told him. She stopped beside his throne.

"You are one of the few," Hades muttered, black eyes looking away from her.

Hestia laid her hand onto his. He turned his hand, and laced her warm fingers with his icy ones.

"Have you called my nieces and nephews?" She asked her brothers.

"Yes," Hades said.

"Yes," whispered Zeus.

"Yes," Poseidon said as he thumped his head against the back of his chair.

"When they get here," Hestia said. "After you have closed the doors, you can transport them someplace else. I do not enjoy lying, but I will do so if that is what you wish."

"And where would we put them?" Zeus asked. "If I shroud them from Hera's eyes, she will become suspicious. If I scatter them around the world and place a barrier around each one individually, it will bring down even more monsters upon them and they will have no way to defend themselves. At least no way that does not give away who, what, they are."

"Perhaps, we can hide them in Hades's realm?" Poseidon suggested.

"Persephone will find out, and tell the others," Hades said. "She hates my children."

"Amphitrite hates mine," Poseidon said. "So does Triton. We can not hide them with me."

"We have not choice." Zeus bowed his head.

Hestia stepped back from Hades to look at her brothers. Each one had his head turned away from the door; perhaps they believed that if they ignored the door, they could stop or at least delay what they had to do. Hestia walked over to her hearth and stepped in. At least in the familiar flames she would be at home.

Minutes and then hours passed, and still the gods did not move. They only showed signs of life when the massive golden throne room doors creaked open. Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon straightened in their chairs.

Civilian demigods streamed in. They laughed and chatted with each other. Only when they caught sight of their fathers did they fall silent, and give unorganized, mistimed, bows. The younger ones shouted out hellos.

"Hello, daddy!" A little girl no older than five with pigtails shouted as she waved at Poseidon.

"Hello, little one." Poseidon gifted her with a small smile.

Hestia observed the restless demigods, who waited without a word spoken to their fathers. Her heart bowed in her chest weighted down by the knowledge of what would happen.

Zeus snapped his fingers and summoned the rest of the children.

Fully dressed soldiers appeared at the foot of Zeus's throne. The civilian demigods pushed back; their small screams bounced off of the marble walls. Hestia tilted her head. Why would the demigods show fear? Hestia noted the different uniforms. Perhaps the civilians showed fear because of the soldiers' clothing.

The unarmed soldiers shared a brief moment of confusion before they scrambled for lost weapons. When they realized their weapons had disappeared, they reached for their powers. Their efforts tickled Hestia's skin. The air always tingled with energy when the demigods pulled on their parents' powers.

"Nazi, scum," a son of Zeus spat as he held out his hand towards a son of Hades.

From the stance of the son of Hades and the son of Zeus, both of them expected lightening to strike down the son of Hades. When the son of Hades remained safe, the son of Zeus looked at his hand in befuddlement.

Hestia assumed from the look of concentration on the son of Hades's face, he had tried to shadow travel. The son of Hades loosened his eyes. One by one the demigods tried to reach for their god given talents, but their efforts remained fruitless.

"Are you not going to greet your fathers?" Poseidon kept his gaze above the heads of the sea of demigods.

One by one the soldiers took notice of their fathers, and bowed to them. They greeted them as they had been taught. First, they bowed to Zeus and then to their fathers. They waited in silence for their fathers to give them their orders.

After a minute, a son of Hades with blond hair stepped forward. "Why are we here?"

The gods stood from their thrones.

"Demigods," Zeus began, he kept his eyes fixed on a spot over their heads. "We have gathered you here today..."

Zeus trailed off. He should have prepared for this. It would be easier to just drop them all off at camp, but then he'd be nagged by Hera for another thousand years.

The demigods stared up at him. Zeus's throat closed up. How does one tell another that they must die? That their father must kill them? It occurred to Zeus that he could just snap his fingers and be done with it, but that seemed wrong in a way.

"You will all be going to the Isles of the Blessed," Hades said.

Excited chatter broke out. Each demigod theorized why they had been chosen to go to the Isles of the Blessed. Zeus nodded at Hades.

"That being said," Zeus said.

The demigods fell silent.

Hestia saw Poseidon take a deep breath.

"The council of the gods have decided that as our children you are too numerous and powerful to live." Zeus cupped his hands in front of him.

It took a moment. A few demigods laughed, others asked if this was a joke, but as the emotionless gods stared down at them, fear and anger exploded out of them.

"You can't be serious!" A son of Zeus shouted.

"What did we do?" A child of Poseidon asked. "Why are you mad at us?"

"This is horseshit!" A daughter of Hades cried. "We have done everything you have ever asked us! We left our families to serve you! We've fought for you! We've died for you, and you turn against us!"

"Silence," Poseidon called. He stepped forward to stand beside his brothers. "It has been decided you are all too powerful."

"So you decide to kill us all, to save your own hides?" A son of Poseidon asked. Metals pinned to his uniform shined in the firelight. "Some father you turned out to be."

Poseidon flinched back, and avoided the eyes of his children.

"Why do we have to die?" A daughter of Zeus called out. She wore blue jeans stained with grease.

Zeus breathed out. "The fates have given a prophecy that spoke of a demigod who had the potential to destroy all of Olympus and with it all of the Western World."

The same daughter waved her hand. "Why should we die? It's clear that a child of Hades will be the one the prophecy speaks of."

Hades's face tightened. His eyes narrowed.

Hestia frowned. If that was the way all demigod children treated Hades's children, then she could see why he refused to let them near Camp Half-Blood.

"We would never!" A daughter of Hades screamed back.

"Enough," Zeus whispered.

Hestia's skin crawled with the power he put behind that word.

The demigods went silent as if their voices had been stolen.

"Our decision is final," Zeus said.

"Why can't you just put us in Camp Half-Blood?" A little girl of Poseidon, the same one that had waved at him, asked.

"Our decision is final," Zeus muttered. His skin glowed with a soft light, the signal of his true form. It would be painless for the demigods to die this way, or at least Hestia hoped.

Her heart broke as the children pleaded and screamed at their fathers to change their minds. Small hands grasped at their fathers a final pitch to try to save their lives. Some of the demigods stayed silent. They cried as they held one another. Some of the older ones wrapped themselves around the younger as if to protect them.

Her amber eyes went to her brothers, who had their eyes squeezed shut. They grew in size, and brightened into a light that could blind. Even within the flames, Hestia's skin burned and itched with the heat that came off of them. She tried to ignore the tears on her brothers' multi-faced forms.

Time stopped. The demigods silenced, and stayed intact. Her brothers froze in their true forms. Hestia stepped closer to the edge of her hearth. Her big toe just about poked out of the hearth when the demigods exploded.

Hestia gasped and covered her mouth. Balls of blood floated in the air, no flesh or hair of the demigods remained. The sight of the perfect balls of blood reminded Hestia of that video she had seen of water droplets in space. But, why did the demigods explode? What caused it? What froze her brothers? What would have the power to do that?

The blood droplets moved. They spiraled together into one giant ring. The blood of demigods mixed together. The circle of blood tighten until the circle collapsed in on itself. The blood boiled and spiked then it settled in the form of a baby. The red blood waved its arms and kicked its feet as white bones caged it in. The bones soaked in some of the blood, while the rest flowed over them solidifying into muscles and blue veins coating the bones. Still more blood dripped from the muscles taking the shape of organs. With a wave of the baby's arm Hestia could see the muscle contracting, and received a brief glimpse of the baby's heart beating away in its bone cage. Thankfully, pink skin covered that gory sight growing over the muscles and organs like moss. Black hair sprouted from the baby's head as it floated to the ground.

Hestia inched forward. She needed to welcome that child. It was her job to pass the child over the hearth for it to be accepted into the family. Of course, this practice had fallen out of style centuries ago with the humans, but this child was born on Mount Olympus and they still held some of their traditions close. She balanced on the edge of the hearth when three old ladies appeared. Hestia rushed to the back of her hearth pressing her back against the hot stones.

 _'The Fates, what are the fates doing here?'_ She wondered.

Her eyes widened as the wizened crones picked up the demigod (At least Hestia thought they were a demigod because the ratio of blood would be the same, but what powers would they have?) and vanished. The flames of her hearth slithered in place, the crackle of the fire popped into existence filling her ears with sound. A light brighter than a supernova came from outside her hearth, and then died down.

"Where are the ashes?" Poseidon's voice floated to her ears above the crackle of the flames.

"They must have disintegrated as well," Hades's voice said.

Hestia's heart leaped. She rushed forward and peeked out of the hearth. Her brothers stood in human form. Poseidon flashed out, followed by Hades. Hestia hurried out of the hearth, her bare feet slapped against the cool stone, she had to tell Zeus what she had seen.

"Zeus, brother," she called, stopping him from returning to his room.

"Not now Hestia," Zeus said over his shoulder. "I am tired. Go and tend to your hearth."

"You don't understand," she said, but he ignored her walking through the oak doors that led to his chambers.

Hestia sighed through her nose. Perhaps, now was not the best time to tell them. She walked over to one of the windows. The night sky twinkled over head. What have the fates planned?

#

Across the sea, three old ladies appeared at Godric's Hollow. They silently approached a warded home, unseen by Muggles and wizards, and laid down a baby wrapped in gold wool. They stepped back and watched the wool glow in the darkness before disappearing.

#

Lily Potter hummed to herself as she walked down the stairs. She had gotten up early to prepare breakfast for her husband and herself, she refused to use house elves, when a peculiar noise outside her front door stopped her. She grabbed her wand from behind her ear, and tapped the door. It became transparent.

She peered at the dark outside world. Street lights glowed in the night. Cottage windows remained black and still. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until Lily looked down at her porch step. A baby cooed and wiggled in a wool blanket. The baby's black hair stood out against the gold coloring of the blanket, and if Lily's eyes weren't deceiving her that blanket was glowing.

Lily knelt down and pressed her hand on the door. The baby looked like James, at least he had the same coloring. Why would someone leave a baby on their doorstep? How could someone leave a baby on their doorstep? Their cottage is hidden from everyone except Peter, Remus, Sirius, Poppy, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. Lily gasped when the baby turned its head, emerald eyes, her eyes, stared back at her. Her hand shook as it caressed the wood that separated her and the baby. For weeks she and James had been trying for a child, only to find out the chances of them having one had decreased exponentially because of an accident James had had as a child.

Her eyes filled with tears. What kind of cruel joke was this? Dangling something she couldn't have in front of her, not just a child, but one that looked like a perfect blend of herself and her husband. Was this a trick? A trap devised by the enemy? She didn't know of any spells that could turn someone into a baby, there were plenty to make a person seem more youthful but not at this level. A baby's body is too malleable to copy, no adult would be able to change themselves to fit a baby's body nor would a child be able to. Their developed bodies wouldn't be able to handle the pressure of being condensed within a baby's body, for someone to pull something like this off, they would have to glamour a baby or give it Polyjuice Potion, which would result in the baby's death.

The baby outside sneezed. Lily jumped, startled out of her thoughts by the noise. She gripped her wand, knuckles turning white. If she opened the door, she'd risk exposing her home to a potential trap. If she didn't, a baby, glamoured or not, may get sick and she couldn't have that on her conscious. She stood up and tapped the tan colored wall beside her with her wand. It glowed blue. The wards remained undisturbed, so how had that baby gotten there?

She inched open the door. No spells came at her, so she opened it wider until she could fully see the baby. The baby cooed up at her as it reached for her with a pudgy hand. She waved her wand over the child. A white light came from her wand; the baby was clean of spells and potions. The baby squirmed as if they could feel the magic slithering over their skin. She stood there for a moment, staring down at the child until they began to whine. Mind made up, Lily scooped the baby up and carried them inside.

The baby snuggled against her chest. The soft wool melted between her and the baby; its golden strands filled every crevice between her fingers. She carried the baby to her rustic couch, and laid them down on it. She stood there staring down at the baby. It was clear that the baby must have magical origins. Why else would they be swaddled in glowing cloth? That still begged the question: How did that baby end up on her doorstep?

Lily stilled. Unless, the wool blanket had an enchantment on it that negated all outside spells that stopped her from detecting a glamour. She quickly unwrapped the baby, him, the baby was definitely a him, and laid him on the couch. The baby squirmed on the couch; he screwed up his face when the cool air hit him. Just as he started to cry, Lily cast spell after spell trying to detect something, anything, which would explain what was going on. All her spells came back negative. This baby was just as he seemed.

"Lils?" James's voice came from the stairs. He yawned. "What's going on?"

Lily watched him rub his eyes as she picked up the crying child. She wrapped the baby up in the wool blanket. James blinked at her with hazel eyes. Lily smothered a smile as his eyes went from her to the baby she held and widened.

"Merlin's hairy balls, Lily," James blurted out. "Did you steal someone's child? I know you wanted one, but kidnapping?"

"I didn't steal him." Lily rolled her eyes. "He was left on our front doorstep."

"Lily, our house is unplottable," James pointed out. "No one outside our friends and family know where we are, and I doubt they would kidnap a child for us."

"I know that James, and I don't think he was kidnapped," Lily said as she bounced the baby in her arms. She smiled down at him as he giggled. "I think he was abandoned."

"How do you know he's not a part of a trap?" James asked as he stepped closer.

Lily heard him suck in a breath when the baby's emerald eyes met his. "I've already checked him over. There's no spell, no curse, and no potion. Besides, do you know of anything that doesn't need to be applied constantly and doesn't harm the baby?"

"Well, no," James said. "It just seems suspicious that a baby, that looks like us, was found on our doorstep."

"I know, but he's all alone." Lily stared down at the baby. "There was no note, and you don't leave a baby alone on a doorstep of a house that looks abandoned if you're going to keep him."

"Lils–," James said.

"Please, James," Lily begged. "Please, we've been trying so hard for a baby, and it's clear no one wants him."

"Lily, we don't know anything about this child." James ran his hand through his hair.

"We know he was abandoned," Lily said. "And that he has magical parents, I mean, look at this blanket, you can't tell me that he doesn't come from a magical family."

"Lily," James said as he avoided her eyes. "If a magical family abandons a baby, it's because that baby's a squib."

"Does that bother you?" Lily demanded.

"No," James shook his head before he made eye contact. "Of course not."

"Then what's the problem?" Lily snapped. Her eyes flashed.

She could see James bite the inside of his cheek. This baby needs her, and she's going to keep him.

His nostrils flared as he sighed out of his nose. "How are we going to explain his presence to the others?"

"Nobody's been by for months," Lily said. "We can tell them we had him while they were gone."

"That's all well and good short term," James said. "But all they would have to do is look at the Ministry records to see that we don't have a son, and we can't leave to get the proper adoption papers because Dumbledore will be notified and he'd want to know why we were leaving."

"If he found out," Lily whispered as she traced her finger down the baby's cheek. "He might try to take him away."

Tears filled her eyes. She looked up at James.

"James," she whispered. "Please, tell me there's a way."

James chewed on his lower lip. His hazel eyes slid to the right, away from her. Lily's chest heaved as her heart caved in. There wasn't another way. Eventually, because of Dumbledore or the Ministry, this baby would be taken from her, and so would her greatest chance of having a child.

"I suppose," James shifted a bit, "there is one way."

"What?" Lily leaned forward. Small fingers grazed her chin. Lily glanced down at the baby and smiled.

"There's a ritual," James said. "The ministry outlawed it because it uses very powerful magic. Not dark, but potentially dangerous to the user if done wrong."

"What?" Lily prompted.

"We could die or lose our magic if we do it wrong," James warned her. "It's a blood ritual. Blood magic is very old and powerful, so most wizards shy away from it. It's called Familia Sanguine. It will mix our blood with his, and make him genetically our son."

"Will it hurt him?" Lily tightened her hold on the baby.

"I don't think so," James said. "I've only heard about it because my great-great-great grandfather preformed it on this guy that wanted to marry his daughter to stop him from being able to. He got arrested."

"The man?" Lily asked.

"No, my grandfather," James said. "Not only did he preformed the banned ritual, he also did it to someone against their will, or well, the guy was drunk and didn't know what was going on. The magic still worked because he was led to believe that my grandfather would accept him if he did the ritual, if my grandfather hadn't led him to believe that, the ritual would have backfired and who knows what would have happened, in the end the guy couldn't marry my great-great grandmother because genetically and legally they were family. Anyway, um, from what I've heard if we do this, he'll belong to his parents genetically, but he'll belong to us too, genetically. He'll have two sets of parents."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Lily said as she rocked the baby. "Will his other parents show up genealogically?"

"Only if someone did a test on him," James said. "In Ministry files we'll be the only ones that show up."

"Any other side effects I need to know about?" Lily asked.

"Well, I heard of a rumor about a squib gaining the magic of the parents who did the ritual," James said. "People say the baby stole the magic from the parents, but I'm not sure I believe that."

"The gene carrying the magic in the parents probably made the magical genes in the baby dominant instead of recessive," Lily said.

"Jeans?" James squinted at her.

Lily rolled her eyes as she smiled. "I need to sit you down and teach you some Muggle biology."

"Aww, Lils," James groaned. "Not more classes. We've just got out of school."

Lily giggled. "Come on, tell me what we need to do for the ritual."

"Well," James said as he scratched the stubble on his chin. "I'll have to refresh my memory, but I think the items are ones we can find around the house. It's the words that are important. We'll need to say them at exactly the same time."

"Okay, so I guess we better get started," Lily said.

"Can we do it after breakfast?" James asked. "I'm hungry."

"I'll start cooking," Lily said. "You start looking for whatever book you need to refresh your memory."

Lily heard James groan, but ignored him. She transfigured a guest chair into a yellow and orange high chair, and set the baby in it. The baby inspected his new seat with interest. Lily placed her hands on her hips and stared down at the baby for a moment.

"We're going to have to think of a name for you," she said as she turned away.

She pulled out bowls and pans, wanting to cook the Muggle way, it would help her relax, while she thought about names. Arnold? No. She cracked some eggs into a bowl. Arron? No. She whisked the eggs together and seasoned them. Edward? She made a face as she lit the stove and put the pan on. Henry? Close, but no. Lily poured the eggs into the pan. Harvey? No. She tilted the pan one way and then another going through the motions to make an omelet. As she fell deeper into her thoughts, she began to rely on magic. With a wave of her wand, butter and bread flew out of the fridge and over to the other pan. The butter rubbed itself on the pan, the pan lowered itself over the fire, and the bread placed itself down on it.

Lily turned to look at the baby, who stared wide eyes at the objects as they flew past, she smiled when he made a grab for the spatula that flew over to her.

"Maybe Harold?" Lily muttered as she scooped the omelet off the pan. "No, not that one either."

"I found the book, Lils," James said, as he walked into the kitchen with the book opened in the palm of his hand. "It seems pretty easy."

He looked up. "What are we having today?"

"Omelets and toasts," Lily said.

"What is he going to eat?" James pointed at Harry.

"I'm–," Lily stopped. She placed her hand on her chin. "I'm not sure. I'm not lactating so I can't give him any breast milk."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," James said. "He looks about the Longbottom's son age. I think he can handle solids."

"Oh," Lily's heart dipped towards her stomach before it jumped back into place. She shook her head and turned to the stove. She was being ridiculous. Of course, the baby was passed the point of breastfeeding; though, it would have been nice to have that bonding experience.

"Lils? You okay?" James asked.

"Yeah," Lily wiped at her stinging eyes. "Just tell me what we need to do to adopt him."

"Well, we need a tub of water to set him in," James said. "We need a silver knife to smear our blood on him. We need a daffodil for new beginnings, since you're going to be doing this with me, we're going to need lilacs for first love between mother and child, we need a peach rose, a white carnation, and a sunflower."

"That's a strange combination," Lily said as she waved her wand. Plates zipped out of their cupboards landing on the table. Before a plate could land before the baby, Lily charmed it to be unbreakable and cut all of the food on it into small bits.

The baby clapped his hands when the food was set in front of him. Lily and James smiled at each other as the baby dug in with gusto.

Lily watch James take a bite of toast as he read the directions of the ritual. She cut a piece of omelet off and ate it as James relaid the ritual to her.

"The first thing we'll have to do is crush the daffodil, lilacs, white carnation, and sunflower together into a paste," James said.

"Why those flowers?" Lily asked.

"Well, daffodil for new beginnings, lilac to symbolize your love for the child." James pouted. "For some reason the father isn't important enough to get a flower."

Lily laughed at him as she shook her head. James smiled at her; he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Anyway, the white carnations symbolize purity for the child," James coughed. "I wonder if my grandfather used white carnations for pureness or a different color to stand for the grievance of having to adopt that guy to stop a marriage."

Lily shrugged as she wiped the baby's face. He squirmed in his seat, and scrunched up his face. She giggled at him as he shoved more food into his mouth.

"Sunflowers are suppose to stand for wishes," James said. "And peach roses are suppose to seal the deal."

"Well," Lily frowned. "I can get daffodils from my potions kit, but not anything else."

"I have a mission today. I'll slip away and stop by a Muggle store to get the rest," James said. "We need to put them in a mortar and mash them together. First, we need to put in the sunflower and then state our wish in Latin, of course it's in Latin, why can't it be in English?"

"Latin holds power," Lily said.

"Any words from any language can hold power if you put enough life force behind them," James said, "but whatever."

Lily rolled her eyes. James always thought he knew better than others, or that he could find another way that was both easier and better than the traditional ways. Sometimes he was right, other times he needed to stick with tradition.

"The daffodils, lilacs, and white carnations need to be put in next," James said. "We only need one carnation and one lilac because there's only one kid and only one mother. We need three daffodils because the three of us will be the ones entering a new beginning. Then we need to mash them together. After that we add our blood–."

"Even his?" Lily asked nodding towards the baby.

"Yeah," James sent her a small smile. "It doesn't have to be a lot. You can use the needle injector in your potions kit. After that we mix the blood and the mashed flowers, then we add the rose and mash that. Next, we smear the mixture on the baby, and say the words. If the water he's sitting in turns gold, then that means it worked."

"If it doesn't?' Lily asked.

"We'll know if it doesn't," James said.

"Will he get hurt?" Lily looked over at the baby.

"I don't think so..." James said as he leaned back in his chair.

The adults sat in silence for a moment.

"Are you sure you want to do this Lily?" James asked.

"Yes," Lily said. She bit her lip. "Are you?"

"Yeah," James said. He stared at the baby. "Little guy's grown on me."

He tickled the baby's chin making him giggle.

Lily smiled at the two of them. This was how it was meant to be.

"So what are the words?" Lily asked.

"What? Oh," James looked at the book. "Nos autem Potter genus accipere puerum istum in ovili nostro. We of the Potter family accept this child into our fold. It says here after saying this child, we have to say the child's full name."

Lily froze when James looked up at her.

"What's his name?" He asked.

"I-I don't know," Lily said. "He didn't come with a letter or a note. Just a golden blanket. I've been trying to think of a name, but I haven't thought of one."

"I'm certain you'll come up with something," James said as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Lily asked.

"I have a mission, and on my way back, I'll get the things we need." James winked at Lily. "I expect you'll have a list of names for when I get back."

"Sure," Lily sighed. She waved her wand, sending the dirty dishes into the sink. "Not like I have anything better to do."

James winced. "You don't have to stay cooped up in the house."

"I don't know what to do," Lily said. "I don't have any missions, and Saint Mungo's refuses to let anyone one from either side of the war work there. Something about not one side getting priority over another."

"You can't blame them, Lils," James said. He squeezed her shoulder. "They have patients to look after. They swore a magical oath to not take sides in this war, to help anyone who comes through their doors. Having people who have taken sides in the war working there is just asking for trouble."

Lily huffed as James kissed her on the cheek. She suppressed a smile as James nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

"While you're thinking, you get to have alone time with our boy," James said.

Lily's heart exploded with warmth. Their boy. James really did want to adopt this baby, too. She smiled, her grin hurt her cheeks, as James kiss the baby's head before he left.

"Well," she said as she stood up, and plucked the baby from the high chair. "Let's play a bit while I think of a name."

She took the baby into the living room and sat him down on the tan carpet. She grabbed some old magazines off of the coffee table and transfigured them into blocks. She helped the baby build a tower, then, she would knock it down to make him laugh. When he grew bored of that, she made bubbles of different colors appear. She summoned smoke, played music, and danced with him. All the while, her mind raced over names to give him. It wasn't until she picked up a story book called Harry the Happy Hippogriff that she decided on a name.

"Harry," Lily tested the name. She looked down at the baby in her lap.

"Harry." She stared into emerald eyes.

She laughed and hugged him. "Harry! That's it! Harry!"

She picked Harry up and twirled around the room. He giggled and laughed along with her. She barely heard the front door opening and closing.

"What did I miss?" James asked.

"Harry!" Lily laughed.

"Harry?" James smiled at the laughing duo. "Is that his name?"

"Yes," Lily rushed over to James, "did you get the flowers?"

"Yeah." James held up a banquet of flowers. "It was easier to get a banquet than just asking for one of each. Plus, I wanted to bring you some."

"Aww," Lily handed him Harry, took the flowers, and kissed him on the cheek. "We can put them in the vase Petunia gave us."

Lily placed the flowers in the brown vase with decorative black cracks on it. She grimaced; the flowers failed to brighten the vase's doleful look.

"Harry James Potter," James said. "I like it."

"Who says we're giving him your first name as a middle?" Lily asked. Her lips twitched into a teasing smile.

"It's tradition," James said. "And you don't want to ruin tradition."

"Right," Lily said. She bumped her hip against his. "Because that tradition worked out so well for you."

"Hey," James laughed. "You have to admit Harry James Potter sounds a lot better than James Fleamont Potter."

"True," Lily said. "So when should we start the ritual?"

"Well," James said. "We can do it today, but I'd prefer to practice our lines first. So maybe we can wait until the full moon?"

"Why the full moon?" Lily asked. "Aren't you worried about someone coming and finding out?"

"No," James said. "They're all out on missions, and Remus will be busy with the full moon."

"By the way, how did your mission go?" Lily asked.

James shrugged. "Standard. Had a look around Muggle London for suspected dark magic, but nothing had happened, or at least nothing that hurt the Muggles."

"Think it was a diversion?" Lily asked.

"If it was, it wasn't a very good one," James said. "It only warranted sending out two wizards to look into."

"A week," Lily muttered as she stared down at Harry. "A week until you can be a part of our family."

She ran a finger down Harry's cheek, and smiled. "Do you think you can wait that long?"

Harry gurgled and grinned at her.

James laughed as he bounced Harry in his arms earning a giggle for his efforts. "I'll take that as a yes."

Lily walked over to the flowers, and placed a freezing charm on them to keep them fresh.

The days flew by. Lily and James practiced the words they would have to say while getting used to their new addition. Harry wasn't a hard child; though, strange things happened when he threw fits: pipes would burst, James had been shocked more than once, and the shadows grew darker, the more upset he got.

"He's probably a late bloomer," James said one night. He pulled off his sock. "The family must have assumed that he was a squib. Though that's hard to believe after he had appeared in that corner _after_ we put to bed. I wonder how he did it?"

"I can't believe someone would abandon such a wonderful little boy," Lily muttered with closed eyes. She pressed her face into her cool pillow.

"Their loss," James whispered before he fell asleep.

Before long, the full moon was upon them. Lily moved the couch and coffee table against the wall and shrunk them down to keep them out of the way.

"Almost done?" Lily asked James.

"Almost," he said as he transfigured a pillow into a metal basin; he filled it up with warm water.

Lily rushed up the stairs to get Harry. She entered the Quidditch themed nursery and smiled. She hurried over to the crib, transfigured from old school books–they would need to go out and buy proper baby supplies before the transformed items wore off–and reached down to wake Harry up. Her hand shook as she carded her fingers through his hair. Her eyes watered as Harry stirred. Soon her dream of having a child would come true, and no one would be able to take him away from her.

"Come on, Harry," she said as she picked him up. "It's time to become a family."  
She carried him down to the living room. James stood there with a silver knife in hand, and flowers resting next to a chopping table.

"Ready, Lils?" James asked.

"Definitely," Lily said. She sat Harry down in a fenced off area with a few blocks.

"Okay," James said. "The first thing we'll have to do is crush the daffodil, lilacs, carnation, and sunflower together into a paste."

"Alright." Lily nodded. She spelled her hair up into a bun, and rolled up her sleeves. "Let's get started."

Within five minutes the flowers had been crushed into a paste. James cut his arm and let a few drops fall in. Lily did the same. Her eyes tightened as needles prickled the skin around her small wound.

James took a deep breath. "Okay, now, Harry."

Lily and James both turned to look at Harry. Lily's lip quivered at the thought of hurting her baby, but it needed to be done.

"We just need a drop or two," James said. He took the knife from Lily. "Then we can heal him up."

Lily nodded. She walked over to Harry, picked him up, sat down on the floor, and placed him down in her lap.

"Okay, Harry," she said. "I need you to be good. It will be over in a second."

She could see James out of the corner of her eye carrying over the bowl filled with the flower puree and the knife. She tried to keep Harry's attention on her by casting multicolored bubbles. It worked, until, James cut Harry's arm.

"Shh, shh," Lily said. She wiped away thick tears that streamed from his eyes. "It's okay, Harry. It's over now."

James caught the drops of blood in the bowl before he healed Harry with a wave of his wand and a few mumbled words. She kissed Harry, and rested her cheek on the crown of his head once he calmed down.

"Okay," James said. "We need to take off his clothes and set him in the water."

"Okay," Lily said. "Is the water warm?"

"Of course," James said. He shot her an insulted look.

"Right, of course," Lily said. She shook her head. "Sorry."

"No problem," James said as he helped Lily remove Harry's footie pajamas.

Harry squirmed and wined in Lily's grasp.

"Shh," Lily said. "It's okay, Harry. The worst is over."

They got Harry out of his clothes and placed him in the basin. Harry blinked up at them then he slapped the water. He laughed as he splashed around.

Lily giggled watching him as James mixed the blood and pulp together.

"As I spread this over Harry, we need to say the words, then Harry will be our child legally." James said. He covered his fingers in the brown paste.

"Okay," Lily said as she nodded her head. She wiped her hands on her jeans. She scooped some of the mush onto her fingers and helped James rub it on Harry's chest.

A spark went through Lily, and from the way James jerked his hand back, she knew he felt it too. Lily looked into James's hazel eyes as they said the words together.

"Nos autem Potter genus accipere puerum, Harry James Potter, istum in ovili nostro."

Lily and James stopped rubbing the blend over Harry. Harry giggled and splashed in the water. A light shimmer of gold rippled through the water, but besides that, nothing else happened.

Lily slowly lifted her hand off of Harry. "Is–Is that it?"

"I guess so," James said as he took his hand off of Harry. "Maybe we did something wrong? I can check with the Ministry in the morning."

The fireplace lit up with a green color. Lily pulled Harry out of the basin as James vanished it, along with the knife, the mortar, and pestle. She sat Harry down on a nearby blue towel, grabbed her wand off the couch, and pointed it at Harry.

"Scourgify." Lily's insides turned into a warm marshmallow as Harry giggled. Bubbles appeared and popped all over his body taking with them every bit of dirt and the mixture off of him.

Lily wrapped Harry up in the towel. She backed up into the living room corner with her wand pointed just over James's shoulder. She pressed Harry to her chest; her heart solidified into stone. No one would take her baby.

"Feeling a little jumpy, mate?"

James sighed. "Lily, it's okay. It's only Sirius."

"Only me?" Sirius asked. "I'll have you know that tons of people would be elated to have me in their home."

Lily lowered her wand, and looked down at Harry. He stared back at her with wide green eyes. She could hear Sirius asking James about their rearranged furniture.

"It's okay." She trailed a finger down Harry's cheek. "I won't let anyone take you from me."

"What's that?" Sirius asked.

Lily's head jolted up. Sirius peered over James's shoulder. She could see James's back tense as he tried to keep Sirius away. She stared. What should they do? Sirius has already seen Harry. Would he believe that they had Harry while he was gone? Not likely. James rarely kept secrets from Sirius.

"Is that a baby?" Sirius pushed James out of the way and hurried over to Lily.

Lily tried to step back. She hit the wall. She stared at Sirius as he gaped at Harry.

"James?" Sirius said, his voice as quiet as a snitch. His hand hovered near Harry; his eyes darted towards Lily before he lowered his hand.

"I thought you were sterile." Sirius turned around to look at James.

"I thought so too," James said as he rubbed the back of his head. "I guess we were wrong, hehe."

Lily's stomach sank. James sucked at lying when it came to people who knew him. Sirius would see right through him.

"James?" Sirius took a step forward. His head tilted to the side. "When was this kid born?"

"Well, his name is Harry," James said as he looked anywhere, but at Sirius.

"Harry," Sirius said. "That's a nice name. When is his birthday? I'll need to know so I can get him a present."

"Well, I–I," James did a good impression of a deer in headlights as he stared at Sirius.

"We decided to make you godfather." Lily stepped forward.

"What?" Sirius whipped around.

"What?" James repeated as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

Lily ignored James as she smiled at Sirius. "We decided to make you godfather."

"Me?" Sirius's voice rasped out in a whisper.

Lily nodded as she beamed. "Would you like to hold him?"

Sirius gaped as he raised his arms and allowed Lily to place Harry into them. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"He's perfect." Sirius took careful, even, steps over to the couch before he eased himself onto it.

James hurried over to Lily.

"Are you sure?" James said into Lily's ear. "I love Sirius like a brother, but even I have to admit that he's reckless. He can barely take care of himself on a good day, much less someone else."

"I panicked," Lily said her lips pressed to James's jaw while she kept an eye on Sirius. He didn't seem to hear them, too wrapped up in touching Harry's face. "It got him off our backs. Besides, look at him. This could be good for him."

James looked at Sirius. "Yeah, I think you're right."

Lily looked at James, then, she floated an armchair from the corner, and set it down in front of the couch. Lily sat in the chair and James sat on its arm. He cradled her hand in his, and laced their fingers together. Without a word, they watched Sirius study and bounce Harry. Each time Harry laughed or smiled, Sirius would brighten as if the sun had risen beneath his skin.

"I know you guys are lying to me." Sirius said as he rocked Harry.

Lily jumped in her seat. The bones in her hand grated against each other as James crushed it. She stared wide eyed at Sirius, who turned gray eyes towards them.

"I know you didn't want me as godfather from the start," Sirius said his voice horse. He swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed as if he had just tried swallowed needles. "I had asked James when Harry's birthday is and he didn't answer. Lily's proclamation of me being godfather was too sudden and worked too well as a distraction."

"Sirius, I–" James said. His tight hold on Lily's hand loosened.

"Don't." Sirius looked back down at Harry. He smiled. A tear caressed his cheek. "I don't know what you're hiding, but I suppose you have a reason for not trusting me."

Lily winced. She glanced at James. He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. She squeezed his hand. He looked down at her. She nodded.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Sirius," James called.

Sirius looked up from Harry with an eyebrow raised. His eyes pink.

"We have something to tell you," James said.

"What?" Sirius glanced down at the small hand which pulled his collar.

"We found Harry on our doorstep, and decided to adopt him, since it seems like"–James swallowed–"we won't be able to have children."

"His birthday is technically today," Lily said.

"I didn't see you at the Ministry." Sirius untangled the small hand and kissed it. "How did you guys adopt him?"

"That's the thing," James said. He avoided looking at Sirius. "We did an old ritual that was in a family book."

"What kind of ritual?" Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"A blood ritual," James said.

"A blood ritual?" Sirius jumped to his feet. He bounced Harry in his arms. "James, you know how dangerous those are!"

"I know." James stood up. He held his hands out with his palms facing Sirius. "I know. It's just Harry was abandoned here. We think his family thought he was a squib, but trust me he's not. Lily really wanted to keep him, and I want to too."

"Show me the ritual." Sirius hefted Harry up so the child could lay his head on his shoulder.

James rushed up the stairs to get the book, leaving Lily with a pacing Sirius.

"I don't regret doing it," she said.

"I know," Sirius said. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I'm probably over reacting"–Sirius opened his eyes and bore them into Lily–"James knows some dark magic, but I want to be sure that it's not something that's going to come back and bite us all on the bum."

"Here it is," James said. He balanced the open book on his arm, flipping through it, as he walked down the stairs.

Lily huffed with a smile when he almost missed the last step. He stumbled forward, pulling the book close to his chest to keep it from falling. He shot her a boyish grin, and walked over to Sirius to show him the book. Sirius traded Harry for the book and sat down on the couch.

Lily bit her lip as Sirius mouthed the words on the page. She glanced at James and Harry, standing near by. Her stomach squirmed. What if the spell was dark? What if this backfired and something happened to James and Harry because of her selfishness? What if–

"Well, this doesn't look like anything I've seen." Sirius closed the book. "So it's not dark."

"How do you know?" Lily asked. "What if you forgot something?"

"Sirius has a photographic memory," James said. He smiled at Lily's wide eyes and opened mouth. "How do you think he managed to goof off all the time and still get an Outstanding in everything?"

"I never really thought about it," Lily said. "Too busy keeping my own grades up."

"Well, now that that is finished." Sirius pushed himself up. He held out his arms for Harry.

James smiled the same smile he got when he had a prank in mind. He hugged Harry close and turned away from Sirius. Each time Sirius tried to grab Harry, James would dodge. Harry giggled and laughed at the quick turns. Lily smiled and shook her head at their antics.

"Come on, James!" Sirius said as James turned away again. "Give him to me! I'm his godfather!"

"Who says?" James said. His voice bubbled with laughter.

"You did." Sirius pouted. "And you can't take it back."

"Well," James said, looking up at the ceiling. "I guess."

He handed Harry over to Sirius, who tossed Harry into the air and caught him.

"Don't!" Lily said as she took a step forward to catch Harry.

Lily glared at Sirius. He ignored her as he chirped to the giggling baby.

"Welcome to the family, Harry! Just wait until my next visit, I'm going to spoil you rotten."

"Oh great," Lily said as she rubbed her hand down her face. "Just what I need, another James."

"Hey!"

"Come on, Harry," Lily heard Sirius say over James's whining. "Let's leave the lovebirds to their quarreling and go play."

She smiled. They had picked well in trusting Sirius.

In the small town of Hogsmeade, under a starry sky, a man bounced his way down the crowded street, sucking on a delightful lemon drop. His silver beard shined in the lamp lights. He smiled and nodded at each person who greeted him.

He stopped outside the door of a well lit, busy, pub. His wrinkled hand turned the brass knob and he pushed the door open. Light, warmth, and laughter washed over him. He stepped into the Three Broomsticks; shrugged off his blue cloak and hung it up by the door.

"Hello, Dumbledore, fancy robe you have there," Rosmerta said, her blond hair falling out of her bun, as she handed a Butterbeer to a man covered in curly, red, hair.

"I find a bit of color to be the best mood changer in these dark times," Dumbledore said. He held his arms out and did a slow spin. His sky blue robes with golden edges shimmered in the light. "A bit of sunny skies is just what we need."

"Isn't that the truth," Rosmerta said as she took her wand out of the pocket of her stained apron. She waved it so that several empty cups floated behind her. She walked towards the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you, my dear," Dumbledore said. He walked over to the uneven stairs. "I'm a bit late for a meeting, but afterwards I wouldn't say no to a Butterbeer, and the company of a beautiful young lady."

"You flirt." Rosmerta giggled. "Well, I think I can make time for you."

Dumbledore chuckled. He held onto the railing as the wooden steps squeaked under his weight. He walked down the short hallway, the spice smell from the first floor fading, until he reached the private room he reserved for the meeting. He tapped his knuckles against the wooden door.

"Come in." A voice floated through the door.

Dumbledore opened the door. He tugged at his robe as he walked into the room.

"My, is there a dragon sleeping in here?" He looked at the roaring fire.

"I knew you would come," a woman's voice came from the corner of the room.

"Well, yes," Dumbledore said as he sat down. "I'm the one who arranged this meeting."

His chair scraped over the floor as he pulled himself closer to the table. He fished some papers out of his robe and peered at them from over his half-moon glasses.

"So your name is Sybill Trelawney," Dumbledore said, "and you wish to be the new Divination teacher at Hogwarts."

"Yes, I believe that when one has the inner-eye, they are charged with the burden of teaching others how to open their own." Trelawney said. She stared over Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Yes, well," Dumbledore coughed. "I wouldn't call teaching children a burden. More of an experience unlike any other. Anyway, it says here that you come from a line of Seers?"

"Yes." Trelawney straightened in her seat. "My great-great grandmother Cassandra Trelawney was a Seer."

"That's wonderful," Dumbledore said as he clasped his hands in front of him. "Now, when was the last time you reported a prophecy to the ministry?"

"Well, I–" Trelawney adjusted her bottle cap glasses. "I haven't reported anything to the ministry."

"No?" Dumbledore hummed.

Already, he planned to take out Divination from the school's curriculum. It was good to encourage students to seek all talents and gifts outside of school, but Hogwarts needed to be a place where skills could be taught and grown. Divination could not be taught or grown out of someone who did not have the ability. Besides that, not a lot of jobs needed a person with the sixth sense, weak or strong, so Hogwarts had no real reason to teach it. Maybe a Sex-Ed class, or a class that taught students how to blend in with Muggles?

"Not because I haven't had visions!" Trelawney said. She waved her hands before her. "I just, don't always remember my visions. I black out with no memory of what happens."

"That's unfortunate," Dumbledore said. "I have heard of that happening before, that's why most seers are monitored or have a recording spell in place for such instances."

"Oh, well, yes"–Trelawny fiddled with her beads–"I've heard of those, but the presence of someone else is distracting and clouds the third eye, and the recording spell disrupts my process to open the inner eye."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "And what does that process entail?"

"Well," Trelawny said. "I must have a safe place to rest and call home."

She gripped her bag. "And I must admit that I would feel more comfortable at the Hog's Head."

"Yes, well," Dumbledore leaned back into his chair. "I found the Hog's Head to be too dreary a place to conduct an interview; besides, those stools are rather hard on this old man's back."

He chuckled lightly as Trelawny scrambled to agree.

"Of course, it was your decision to come here. It's just so expensive." She said.

"Good thing I'm fitting the bill, then," Dumbledore said.

Trelawny visibly relaxed. "I must have a warm place to relax the body, incense to open the mind, and the proper tools to help the students open their own inner eye."

"You'll have to forgive me, but I have never taken Divination so you'll have to inform me of what tools you are talking about," Dumbledore said. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Traditional tea, unlike the bagged stuff the Muggles sell, preferable Abel's mixture." Trelawny said.

"Abel's?" Dumbledore blinked at Trelawny. "That's a rather expensive tea."

"It's the best tea for opening the third eye," Trelawny said. Her shaking fingers tugged at a stray hair strand. "I would love a cup of Abel's tea right now."

Dumbledore hummed. "What else would you need?"

Trelawny huffed, but continued her list. "Crystal balls for the students to practice on."

"Crystal is highly expensive," Dumbledore said. "Wouldn't glass do?"

Trelawny sniffed with narrow eyes. "Crystal channels energy that helps the third eye focus, and is harder to break than glass."

"Crystal it is then," Dumbledore said. Divination had always been an expensive class to keep, but he had never heard of a teacher needing expensive tea before.

"I will also need incenses imbued with herbs that relax the body and mind," Trelawny said. "The more relaxed the students are, the easier it will be for them to channel their energies and open their mind's eye."

"I see," Dumbledore peered over his glasses at Trelawny. "Miss Trelawny, I have heard of seers who are able to peek into the future at will. Would you be so kind as to show me if you have that talent."

"It–uh, it doesn't work like that, sir," Trelawny stuttered as she tugged at her curls.

"That's a shame," Dumbledore said. "I've heard that Cassandra Trelawney could predict large and small events that were to happen all around the world at will. In fact, I remember her predicting Voldemort's rise to power."

Trelawny flinched. "Yes, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was predicted to come to power by my great-great grandmother, and that is why it is so important for me to find a safe place. Who knows what You-Know-Who would do with my power at his fingertips."

"Well, surely there are safer places than Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps, you can move. Maybe to America?"

"No, no, no," Trelawny said. "That's not feasible."

"Well, that is a shame," Dumbledore said. He stood up from his chair as he gathered his papers. "And I'm afraid with no proof of your abilities, I cannot hire you. Perhaps, you can try somewhere else."

He walked towards the door; his wrinkled hand wrapped around the brass knob when Trelawny called out.

"Wait!"

He paused and turned towards her.

"I–I feel something," Trelawny said, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead.

"Oh," She groaned tugging at her necklaces and the collar of her gown. "I–I see something."

Dumbledore waited for her to continued, indifferent to her shaking hand reaching forward as if to grasp the vision she claimed to be seeing.

"There is a man," Trelawny gasped, "a man who will set forth horrible events. He will ruin lives for honor, for prestige, and for love. A man in black with a hooked nose. And he is climbing the stairs as we speak!"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. He opened the door and peered out. A blond head bobbed its way down the stairs, but there was no sight of a man in black.

"Well," Dumbledore said as he took his first step out the door. "I don't see any man coming up the stairs, so perhaps he slipped past me. I do hope he uses protection. As I said there is no opening for you at this time, now if you will excuse me, I believe that Madam Rosmerta has a Butterbeer with my name on it."

A rasping sound behind him stopped him in his tracks. "Miss Trelawny? Are you alright?"

Trelawny grasped at her beaded necklace. She hunched over, gasping for breath. Her eyes glazed over, and spittle dripped from her lips.

"Come now, my dear," Dumbledore said, stepping back into the room. He reached out to her. "There is no need for theatrics. I'm certain you will find a job soon enough."

 _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_

Trelawny snapped her mouth shut as her raspy, layered, voice faded away. She wiped her mouth, and blinked up at Dumbledore.

"I'm sorry, you were saying Headmaster?" She said.

Dumbledore stared into Trelawny's eyes. "I was saying that I will escort you to Hogwarts as soon as you have your affairs and items in order."

"Oh," Trelawny thrilled, gripping her hand bag. "It's all in here. I've already payed the owner of Hogs Head for last night, so I can move in tonight."

"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, perhaps, that would be best. Come, let us get you settled in."

He grasped Trelawny by the elbow, handling her like glass, as he led her out the closed door. He briefly wondered when the door had closed, but pushed that thought out of his head. He needed to go to the ministry to report a prophecy.

#

An hour before Dumbledore had met with Trelawny, a man dressed in all black with a hooked nose and billowing robes walked up the stairs to a private room in the Three Broomsticks. He walked into the room and tapped his wand against the door.

"Imperturbable," he said.

"Why could we not meet in the Hog's Head?" He drawled taking off his cloak and hanging it on the rack by the door.

"I can't be seen in a place such as that," his blond accomplice sniffed. "Besides, this is much better for private conversations."

"Be that as it may, Lucius," the man sneered. "You pulled me away from a very important poison I was mixing for our Lord."

"I did this for your own benefit, Severus." Lucius glared at him. "You should be thankful, if I did not consider you an old friend; I would not be bothering you with this information that could save your _life_."

"Explain." Severus narrowed his eyes.

Lucius huffed. "There is a rising star in the ranks. She has caught the Dark Lord's eye for her brilliant potion brewing skills; there are rumors that she even surpasses your skill."

"Rumors," Severus scoffed, "as if our Lord would take such baseless drivel as fact."

"It's not baseless," Lucius said. "She has a real talent for brewing. Remember that potion that uses unicorn blood and fairy wings?"

"Yes," Severus said. He clenched his fist, and ground his teeth.

"It took you weeks, almost two months, to finish that potion," Lucius said. "It took her less than three weeks."

"So she has better informants." Severus crossed his arms and turned his head away from his friend. "I have fresher ingredients. It's only a matter of time before she slips up, and falls from our Lord's favor."

"Nevertheless," Lucius said. "Within the inner circle a position is open. There are whispers about her being picked, and the Dark Lord has said he needs a potion master or mistress at his beck and call."

"He has me!" Severus snapped.

"I would still make myself invaluable if I was in your position, just in case." Lucius swept passed Severus and left the room.

Severus stared at the opened door. Someone who surpassed him in potions? Ridiculous. He was Britan's brightest and best! Severus snarled then he skulked towards the door. Still, it wouldn't hurt to insure the Dark Lord's trust. A seat next to the most powerful wizard in all of Britain, quite possibly the world, wouldn't hurt at all.

Severus pondered how he would win his Lord's favor as he exited the private room when he almost slammed into a door. Severus grimaced. No doubt some insufferable teenagers leaving after a drunken night. He was about to step around when a rasping sound came from the open room.

It sounded like someone was choking. Great. Severus stepped away from the door. Anything going on in that room didn't concern him, and he wasn't going to stick his neck out for some ungrateful brat.

 _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches …"_

Wait, what? Severus edged closer to the door, gripping the wood. The door squeaked, moving forward under his weight. He stopped it, and checked to see if the occupants of the room heard or noticed him. They did not.

 _"born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies"_

The rasping occupant gave a choking gasp.

"Hey?" A ruff voice called from behind Severus. "What are you doing?"

Severus didn't waste anytime bolting away from the room, slamming the door closed in his haste. The Dark Lord needed to know about this.

–

Review

Okay, so first chapter of the rewrite of My Immortal Dads. If you have any input in how I can improve, please comment or review. If you want to talk to me about something outside this story then please PM me.


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